


Lavender

by shinymailbox



Series: Purple [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship, like a minor mention of Edelgard, market visits, short and sweet, short fic is short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 18:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20363008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinymailbox/pseuds/shinymailbox
Summary: Something catches nine year old Byleth’s eye on her visit to a large market in the Empire with her father.





	Lavender

**Author's Note:**

> I’M BACK ON MY BULLSHIT (YET AGAIN)  
I woke up to 83 kudos and 400 views on “Violet” and nearly died like y’all are so nice,,, i wrote this short fic because I definitely think there needs to be more fic about the tiny Ashen Demon and Good Dad Jeralt and I am proud to be the fluffy bullshit provider

Byleth has never been to the same market twice.

Of course, she must make an impression on every one she visits. (This is not very difficult, for her; shopkeepers will gossip about her eyes, innocent and wide but with the stare of a soldier, for days after she leaves town without fail.) Today, her father has her hair in uneven braids and she’s wearing her favorite skirt, the one that’s been ripped and sewn together countless times (but the one that she always insists on wearing.) 

The northeastern Adrestian Empire always has the best, most lively markets, her father tells her. This one happens to be in the intersection of a few towns in Aegir and Bergliez territory, and it is bustling with merchants and townspeople.

Byleth takes her father’s much larger hand when the pair walks into the marketplace, and Jeralt realizes that she’s afraid; afraid of losing sight of him in the biggest market she has ever set foot in. “It’s okay, kid, I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, looking down at his daughter and squeezing her small hand, and she nods. 

The majority of the merchants are selling wares that Jeralt and Byleth don’t need at all; things like jewelry and home decorations line the stands, tempting but unnecessary. It’s a while before Byleth finally notices something that catches her eye. Several small outfits are hanging from the stand, each one unique. 

“Oh, kid, you don’t need any more clothing,” Jeralt sighs, exasperated, as he feels Byleth tugging his hand in the direction of the stand. If it were up to him, he’d never buy more than one outfit a year for his growing daughter. No matter how ruined she manages to make her skirts, Jeralt is confident that his mediocre sewing skills are just enough to hold her over until she grows too large for her old clothing. 

“Not clothes,” Byleth says, shaking her head. Her eyes are fixed on a small stand with ribbons and shoes, off to the side of the clothing. “Ah, I see,” Jeralt replies.

Though she barely shows much expression on her face, Jeralt is aware of his daughter’s likes and dislikes. She’s hated wasps since she was three and got stung by four very aggressive insects seemingly out of the blue, and she despised the color green for a period of time when she was six. Jeralt knows that one of her favorite things, however, is getting her hair done. She can sit for hours in front of him as he fumbles with her hair, trying to put her teal locks up in a bun. As a result, as soon as he sets eyes on the ribbons on display, he instantly knows what she is looking for.

“Good morning,” the shopkeeper greets them as they walk closer. She is a young woman, with ginger hair tied up with a blue ribbon and sharp hazel eyes. She does not particularly look like she wants to be there. She looks up at Jeralt with wide eyes, before noticing the girl to his right, grasping his hand. “Anything catching your eye, little miss?”

Byleth lets go of Jeralt’s hand, much to his surprise. “This one,” she says, pointing to a pastel violet-colored hair ribbon on display.

The shopkeeper grins, picking up the ribbon and holding it in front of Byleth. “It’s like the ones Princess Edelgard likes to wear, huh?” she asks.

“She does?” Byleth questions, with a blink but no other expression. If she is being honest, she only vaguely knows of the young Imperial princess.

“Of course! Lots of little girls love ribbons like this.” The shopkeeper turns to Jeralt. “It’s kind of cute, honestly. This color’s been selling out constantly since Princess Edelgard started to wear a purple ribbon in her hair all the time.” Jeralt knows this is not the reason Byleth wants this particular ribbon; he can’t see his nearly ten year old daughter looking up to the six year old Adrestian princess. He doubts that Byleth even really knows who she is.

Byleth takes the ribbon from the woman’s hand and turns to her father, her eyes wide yet cryptically unchanging as always. “Like my eyes,” she says, holding the ribbon up to her face for emphasis.

Like her mother’s eyes, Jeralt thinks. “It’s a good color for you, kid,” he says with a nod down at his daughter. He doubts that Byleth will get much use out of this ribbon, knowing that she’ll default to her older ones once she gets even more into her mercenary training in fear of getting the nice one dirty, but he can’t help but want to buy the ribbon for her anyway. She would just look so much like her mother, hair tied back with a pretty purple ribbon. 

“If you really want it, kid, I’ll get it for you,” Jeralt says, even though he knows his daughter won’t get upset if he says no to her. She doesn’t really get upset about anything. Byleth’s face barely changes, but her eyes go a little wider, gripping the ribbon in her hand a little tighter. Jeralt can tell she’s glad.

“90g,” the shopkeeper says to him, and Jeralt fishes the necessary money out of his pocket. It’s not very expensive at all. Though he brought the money for practical things (more practice swords, new boots) he doesn’t mind buying the ribbon in the slightest. After the transaction is finished, the shopkeeper looks down at Byleth and smiles, though Byleth only offers a monotone “thank you” in reply, barely looking up from the hair ribbon in her hand. 

Jeralt takes his daughter’s hand in his own again, guiding her away from the stand and into the rest of the marketplace. As soon as they are out of earshot, the ginger-haired shopkeeper turns to the exceedingly tall clothing merchant next to her. “Strange kid, don’t you think?” she whispers.

“Dead eyes, definitely. Cute, but she looked like she’d killed a man before,” the tall merchant whispers back.

“Her dad really seemed to care about her, though,” the ginger shopkeeper adds, and both women nod before attending to the next people looking to buy their wares.

**Author's Note:**

> heehoo this is literally the first time I’ve written a “sequel” to something. this is the first time I’ve written this much in the span of 24 hours. I rarely ever write anything tbh. so it’s really surprising that I’m getting like, good feedback on my stuff I am not an author in the slightest,,, I’m a visual artist. I draw I don’t write okay rant over I’m sorry


End file.
